


Blurred Line

by Nightwood



Category: Nightwood
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwood/pseuds/Nightwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all heard the cliche: the line between love and hate is blurred and strange. The resulting tension from such extreme emotions can become quite... steamy.</p><p>
  <em>... The slender hand on the stiff doorknob tightened, but Daniel paid it no heed. His free hand drew closer to William once more, the fingers of his hand curling away to leave the index finger alone and exposed. The lone digit came to rest on William's collar bone just above the next shirt button that had yet to be undone. The skin heated under his touch and Daniel chuckled. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Is it so unusual for a hungry man to eat his fill, even when the food is less than savory?" ...</em>
</p><p>Setting: Victorian Era</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blurred Line

Leather gardening gloves dropped to the floor with a heavy whisper, the worn material slapping the wooden paneling just enough to make a soft echo in the nearly silent drawing room. A jacket hung abandoned on a chair with as much care as haste could muster, its only company being the top hat resting comfortably on the cushioned seat. Books leaned against one another, languidly observing the office and its inhabitants from the balconies of their rosewood shelves in the grand bookcase across from the door.

A ragged intake of breath rippled through the silence, disturbing the stillness of the room like a pebble dropped through the surface of a pond. William Rosewood stood leaned against the door, one slender hand clasped over the knob whose key turned under the shaky ministrations of his delicate fingers. Perfectly round nails spoke of careful grooming and soft skin hinted loudly at the manual labor- or rather, lack thereof- that these hands were used to. Rougher fingers went to the skin of William's lower arm, the toughened digits sliding slowly upwards to savor the feel as the sleeve wrinkled and folded to accommodate the strong hand pushing it ever upwards. William's angular face contradicted itself, contorting into an expression of disgust whilst reddening around the sharp cheekbones. The lean muscles of his slender frame both tensed and shivered and his face turned away to lean an ear against the door. He stared sidelong at the man before him.

"This d-does not change a thing," William managed to snarl through a stutter. "You remain to be naught but a dirty, mud-wallowing gardener, filth." The wandering hand on his arm stopped and his green eyes flashed disprovable while his jaw contradicted the green orbs to set itself in a smug line of triumph. His lips sneered while his racing heart told him to refrain from speech and preserve the moment. The heart often speaks in vain: "Do not think you can acquire my affections or my favor from where you exist in the ditches with the peasants."

The hand lifted from William's arm and made as if to wander away, those unnerving mismatched amber and blue eyes assessing William with unabashed intensity. Daniel quieted the growl in his mind that arose from the words, taking heart in the telltale wanton desperation in the green eyes of the young man before him. He inwardly cursed William's stubborn pride which so adamantly insisted upon tearing at him with such verbal abuses and he punished it forthwith, lifting his face from the tauntingly close proximity to William's neck.

The ebony hair resting on his broad shoulders shifted slightly to move with the head that pulled away from William. The weight on the strong forearm against the door began to lighten as he leaned away from his hovering position over the smaller male. The rise and fall of the slender chest below him began to pick up speed in response, causing him to release a cocky half-smile. "And do not think I would stoop to seek the affections of the bottom-feeding son of my whitewashed, pinchpenny master." The slender hand on the stiff doorknob tightened, but Daniel paid it no heed. His free hand drew closer to William once more, the fingers of his hand curling away to leave the index finger alone and exposed. The lone digit came to rest on William's collar bone just above the next shirt button that had yet to be undone. The skin heated under his touch and Daniel chuckled. "Is it so unusual for a hungry man to eat his fill, even when the food is less than savory?"

William's jaw clenched and from his throat rumbled a growled curse. "Bastard."

"Pretty boy." Daniel's finger slid down and curled, pulling the button free from its slot and exposing the young man's chest a little more.

William sucked in another ragged breath and turned his head back to face his suave adversary. He made no move to resist the touch that he so craved despite the tense air of mutual detestation apparent in the room. "I hate you, Daniel Nightshade," he growled as he let the larger male lift his thin chin with a labor-coarsened finger.

The words hung in the air, dealing damage in unseen places that remained masked by the arrogant glint in those blue and amber eyes. Daniel's gaze calmly swept over the face glaring up at him, taking in every feature and tasting the beauty with his eyes in prelude to what was to come. Then, as he closed his eyes and leaned forward with lips parted, he returned the stabbing words so that William may not go unabashed in this underhanded battle of verbal blows.

"William Rosewood... I hate you more." 

And together they tore each other's hearts asunder, only to build up rickety scaffolds of healing with the broken pieces each had stolen from the other.


End file.
